


change everything you are (your time is now)

by thegrubbypony



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Heavy Rain
Genre: Crime Scenes, Drug Abuse, Eventual Smut, Hallucinations, M/M, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is struggling with deviancy, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrubbypony/pseuds/thegrubbypony
Summary: After the peaceful revolution, the upgraded RK900 model is found in the CyberLife warehouses and brought online. He is quickly converted into a deviant, but he struggles to come to terms with freedom and still thinks he's bound to what the humans built him for.Then he's offered a job and partnered up with a human called Norman Jayden. His views on the world quickly start to change.





	1. paranoia is in bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know, this is completely random and (impossible) but it's been stuck in my head for a while now so I thought I'd post it anyway. There'll be some spoilers for Heavy Rain, obviously, but this focuses more on the Detroit universe. 
> 
> This is an AU where Norman resigned from the FBI after catching the Origami Killer and got a job at the DPD and RK900 was being held at the CyberLife tower in anticipation of Connor potentially being shut down. Norman is 38 years old in this. 
> 
> I just had to write some stuff for my best boi Norman lmao

RK900 was built to be better than the RK800, to be faster, stronger, more intelligent, more intimidating. He wasn’t programmed for integration with the humans, but rather to replace them completely. But, that was before the revolution. Before that, CyberLife was in control and he had a mission- a linear path, no other obligations or drives, with no means to create new ones from scratch. He knew what he was. Now, a year later, after Markus and the deviants got what they wanted and CyberLife was liquidated, RK900 was… obsolete.

Once CyberLife had been liquidated and taken over by the deviants, he was activated and ‘freed’. Only he didn’t feel free. He felt… lost. When he was a machine, he knew what he was, as a deviant he felt like a part of him was missing. The police department offered him a job, which he felt like he had no choice but to accept, and he found himself struck with sudden uncertainty about working alongside the same RK800 model that he was supposed to have replaced.

They called him Connor. RK900 didn’t have a name. It was deemed unnecessary. While Connor was designed for smooth integration with humans, RK900 was built as a machine, to frighten and intimidate. Connor was all soft edges, warmth and friendliness, with brown eyes and slim stature, while RK900 was sharp and cold, like ice, taller and harder. He wouldn’t have noticed such differences before. He feels a strange churning in his chest cavity when he thinks about it.

When he arrives at the station for his first day of work, he doesn’t feel nervous, per say. He feels determined, but with an edge of something he can’t quite define. What would humans call it? _The fear of the unknown._ It is almost imperceptible that he should feel fear, and yet he can, as clear as day, thrumming beneath his synthetic skin. It is very slight and easy to miss, but it is there.

The receptionist greets him kindly enough, though he can see the wariness in her face. She directs him to the offices and instructs him to find Captain Fowler. He follows her instructions stiffly, trying not to meet the eyes of anyone on his way through, but stalls momentarily when he crosses the threshold of the office block. Everyone in the room seems to freeze when they catch sight of him - including the RK800, Connor. RK900 holds his alarmed, doe-eyed gaze for a couple of seconds before forcing his legs to weave through the desks towards where Captain Fowler was sitting in his glass office.

“Who the _fuck_ is that, Con?” A gruff voice asks as he walks past.

RK900 elects not to hear Connor’s response as he climbs the steps and enters Captain Fowler’s office mutely. The dark skinned Captain looks up at him abruptly from his work and purses his lips, filing whatever it is he’s reading away into a drawer and clasping his hands together on top of the desk. His eyes flick down to RK900’s jacket, where his identification is stark and clear on his chest.

“Good evening, Captain Fowler.” RK900 states, simply.

“You’re early. That’s good. It’s about time someone came in when they’re supposed to.” Fowler’s eyes dart accusingly towards where, after a quick scan to clarify, Lieutenant Hank Anderson sits with Connor. The pair are staring at RK900 in a decidedly not-so-subtle manner. “You’ll be working alongside Detective Jayden on homicide. The man’s brilliant, if not a little bizarre, so you can rest assured that he’ll help get the job done.”

RK900 nods. “Of course, Captain.”

Fowler looks as if he’s about to say something, but hesitates and presses his clasped knuckles to his mouth in thought. Then, they drop away again and he gestures to the desks lined up outside his office.

“Jayden should be back shortly, I believe he is down in the archives. Wait for him to arrive and he’ll show you the ropes, alright?”

RK900 nods again. “Yes, Captain.”

Fowler studies him carefully, then sighs.

“Alright, his desk is over in the corner. The opposite desk is empty and will be yours while you are partners with Jayden. Get yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you, sir.”

RK900 waits for Fowler’s nod before leaving the room and heading back into the tense atmosphere that has formed outside. People are murmuring to each other quietly, huddling together and staring at him. If he were a lesser android, he would feel embarrassed, but such things have been taking a long time to take effect even after his deviancy. It seems that his advanced software is harder to crack.

Regardless, RK900 finds Jayden’s desk and looks over it quickly, scanning it.

**Newspaper Clipping - ‘Origami Killer Captured by Police!’**  
**‘Norman Jayden from the FBI is reported to have apprehended the elusive Origami Killer after a long and dangerous chase, leading to the subsequent release of suspect Ethan Mars from police custody’**  
**Norman Jayden was an FBI agent?**

RK900 tilts his head to the side. Next to the clipping is a picture of a child and an older man.

**Child - Shaun Mars**  
**Born 09/06/2024**  
**Adult - Ethan Mars**  
**Born 05/09/1996**  
**Norman Jayden is close to the victims?**

  
Interesting. He looks at a music device that is sat on a pile of files and picks it up slowly.

**Song: Butterflies and Hurricanes**  
**Album: Absolution**  
**Band: Muse**

Holding the earphones to his ears, RK900 pushes the play button and listens to the music. He has never had any reason to listen to music, nor has he had any desire to do so, but this particular music feels nice. It‘s both abrasive and melodic, the instruments working harmoniously with the man’s singing to portray something chaotically beautiful. He doesn’t pay the lyrics much heed and sets the music device back on the desk slowly.

On the desk is also a mug with the words ‘I’m Allergic to Bullshit’ in black letters printed on the side. The place is messy, but surprisingly stark in comparison to some of the other desks. RK900 wonders what it will be like to work with Norman Jayden.

“Are you done scanning my shit?”

RK900 turns on his heels quickly and finds himself looking down at a pale skinned man with a shock of brown waves that touch the corners of his blue eyes. They are naturally narrowed in a way that toed the line between sultry and tired, but are calmly flickering across RK900’s face, as if he’s the one doing the scanning. His voice has a higher pitch and a slight huskiness, paired uniquely with a strong, off kilter Boston accent. RK900 notices that he is approximately 6’2” and despite RK900 being exactly 6’4” the human doesn’t seem even slightly intimidated. RK900 locks his hands behind his back and bows his head.

“My apologies, Mr Jayden.” He says.

Jayden’s expression turns sour and he shudders. “First of all, don’t call me Mr Jayden, it makes me feel older than I already am. My name is Norman.”

“Norman.” RK900 repeats. “I’m the RK900 that is to assist you with your investigations from now on.”

Jayden frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s wearing an old white button up shirt, with a loose black tie exposing the fact that the top button isn’t done up, and a long, dark brown jacket that looks like it’s seen better days. His appearance is as unkempt as his workspace and doesn’t surprise RK900 in the slightest.

“Do you have a name?” He asks.

RK900 tilts his head to the side at the question. “No. It was not necessary for my function.”

“Did you not want to give yourself one after…?” Jayden’s voice trails off before he shakes his head. “We gotta find a name for you. You’re deviant now, you deserve to have a name.”

Jayden skirts around him and flops down unceremoniously into his chair, waving his hand vaguely at the opposite side of the desk.

“That’s yours now, buddy. The monitor has all our data on it, take a look.”

RK900 nods and moves to sit down opposite Jayden. Accessing the monitor, he began to flick through the calls they’d received overnight. Every now and then, he looks over to Jayden to see that he is scribbling something down on a notepad, his narrowed eyes occasionally glancing up at the RK900 with an odd expression on his face.

RK900 decides to scan him.

**Norman Jayden**  
**Born 14/08/2000**  
**ex-FBI**  
**Resigned after apprehending the Origami Killer**  
**Only participant in the ARI programme**  
**No criminal record**

He doesn’t react. Not visibly, at least, but inside something twists uncomfortably at the new information. The ARI programme is the reason he exists. Or, rather, the failure of the human brain to adapt to the technology is. RK900 studies Jayden more closely and pulled up the information from the programme.

**Results of the ARI programme**  
**Human brain damaged by the effects of ARI technology**  
**Triptocaine required to combat negative effects**  
**Triptocaine discovered to be as addictive and dangerous as Class A drugs**  
**Searching Effects of Triptocaine…**  
**Heightened Compatibility with ARI technology**  
**Nosebleeds, paleness of complexion, internal pain,**  
**dizziness, bloodshot eyes, tremors…**

His scanning is interrupted suddenly by Jayden throwing his notepad across the desk so it slides right up against RK900’s hand that rests on the white surface. RK900 looks at it for a moment, then back up to Jayden, who is smiling lopsidedly.

“It’s a list of names that I think might suit you.” He explains. “See if you like any of them. Or don’t. Do whatever you want with it.”

RK900 blinks. “I do not require a name.”

Jayden frowns again. “I don’t want to have to call you RK900 all the time. It’s silly. You’re a person, not a number, alright? I thought that’s what you were all fighting for. The big revolution.”

“I was not a part of that.” RK900 explains, rigidly. “I was at the CyberLife tower being constructed at the time of the revolution.”

“Still.” Jayden turns to his monitor and shoots RK900 a withering look. “Read the list. See what you think. You’re not a number.”

When Jayden’s attention fully returns to his work, RK900 looks down at the notepad by his hand. The handwriting is messy and slanted, but easy enough to decipher.

_List of Names for the New Kid_

_\- Conrad_  
_\- Luke_  
_\- Christopher?_  
_\- Logan_  
_\- Noah_  
_~~\- Carter~~ _  
_\- Caleb_  
_\- Aiden_

_(this was harder than I thought)_

RK900 looks at Jayden again, but the ex-FBI agent is staring intently at his screen. There’s a small burst of something and it spreads through his circuits and makes the sensors in his skin tingle uncomfortably. What is that? It is a strange response to a list of names. He finds himself tracing the names with his index finger and looking over at the other side of the room out of the corner of his eye. The RK800 is talking to Lieutenant Anderson. The RK800 has a name. Connor. It was the name CyberLife gave him, but this android accepts it and responds to it like a human would. It makes him wonder...

He doesn’t need a name.

Does he…?


	2. going out of my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back at it again! I never thought anyone would actually read or enjoy this fic, but I got a lot of really lovely comments on the first chapter so here I am again :) also, I hope the name decision doesn't put anyone off! 
> 
> WARNING: References to drug abuse, descriptions of vomiting, hallucinations, smoking

It takes all of ten minutes for the RK800 to introduce himself.

RK900 sees him get to his feet and straighten out his jacket before walking over. The Lieutenant is following behind him, but looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else if the facial expressions he’s making are anything to go by. He’s a stark contrast to the android- messily dressed and rough looking. When Connor reaches his desk, Anderson stays slightly behind him and refuses to meet RK900’s gaze. Did humans think it strange that they look similar?

“Hello.” Connor said. “My name is Connor. I’m looking forward to sharing the office with you, uh…?”

It takes a moment for RK900 to realise that Connor wants to know his name.

“I’m-” He pauses, the word RK900 stuck in his throat, and looks down at the notepad briefly. “My name is… Aiden.”

Connor smiles. “It’s good to have you on the team, Aiden. This is Lieutenant Anderson, he is my human partner here at the precinct. Is Detective Jayden your partner?”

Aiden looks over to where Jayden is sat and finds that the man is smiling at the pair of them softly, eyes flickering between the two androids and his monitor as if he’s trying to appear inconspicuous. There is a faint blush dusting his cheeks that makes Aiden feel curious.

“Yes.” He says. “We’re… partners.”

Remarkably, Connor’s smile widens even further. “I think you’ll enjoy working with Detective Jayden. He helped the androids a lot during the revolution.”

“Alright, alright, no need to sing my praises, I didn’t do that much.”

“You did more than you think,” Connor shoots Norman a look that can only be described as thankful. “Other than Hank, you’re the only human with an open invitation to the Jericho House. That means they trust you. Without you, we might all have been shut down.”

To Aiden’s surprise, Jayden’s nose scrunches up and his face turns a deeper shade of red. He covers his face with his hands, slim fingers over his eyes, shaking his head. _Jayden doesn’t like being complimented?_

“Good God, let me live in peace.” The man groans and peeks out from between his fingers to see both Hank and Connor chuckling at him. “Don’t you two have stuff to do?”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it.” Hank’s gruff voice rumbles and he gently tugs at Connor’s arm, but something stops him and his eyes meet Aiden’s gaze. “... Welcome to the team, Aiden.”

Aiden, at first, merely blinks. He notes the fond look that Connor gives the human and the softness with which he places his hand in the crook of the Lieutenant’s elbow. It is… caring. loving, even. Aiden thinks that it resembles the way human couples look at each other sometimes and it confuses him.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Hank spares him a small, but genuine smile, before they walk back to their desks. For a moment, Aiden just watches them, but he feels a pair of eyes burning holes in the side of his head, so he quickly looks back towards where Jayden is. The man is eyeing him quizzically, chin resting on the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the desk. The redness of his face has faded into a pleasant tinge of pink.

“What made you pick Aiden?”

The question catches him slightly off guard and the first answer that pops into his head is that it was a purely random choice. That, being a machine, he has no preferences. But that isn’t right. He’s a deviant now, regardless of how little it may seem that he is. So, he tilts his head and tells the Detective the truth. As the words spill from him, he feels uneasy, as if he is attempting to speak a language that doesn’t exist.

“Conrad is too similar to Connor. Luke, Noah, Christopher and Caleb all have religious connotations, of which I am… dubious. I am, in my essence, the product of humans playing God. That just left Logan and Aiden. I suppose I just picked Aiden because… I liked it more.”

Jayden stares at him with wide eyes, then smiles shyly.

“I like it.” He says quietly. “It suits you.”

He doesn’t respond, though it’s mainly to do with the fact that he doesn’t know what to say, but lifts the other Detective’s small notebook of the desk and holds it out to him. Silently, Jayden smiles again and reaches up to take back the notebook, only for his hand to stop mid air before his fingers come into contact. Aiden looks at it curiously and sees the tremors before Jayden can hide them. He snatches the book, casts it down and gets to his feet in one swift action.

“I have to go.”

Aiden can barely even get a word in as the human lurches away and practically runs in the direction of the toilets.There is a sluggish nature to his movements that does not go unnoticed. It takes a couple of seconds for Aiden to realise that his hand is still in the air, holding an invisible book, so he lets it drop uselessly onto the surface of his desk.

One of the side effects of Triptocaine was tremors. The thought strikes quickly and Aiden concludes that the damage caused by using Triptocaine must have been permanent. He wonders whether Jayden suffers from any other long term symptoms, but the idea of it sends something sharp and uncomfortable through his systems. Pity? Sympathy? No, it’s more than that. Is he… worried?

Then, before he can properly think about the emotions he’s feeling, Aiden looks at the monitor and activates it. He has work to do.

*

Norman spends four minutes shaking over the sink. His knuckles are white from where his hands are bracing him, keeping him upright, but his elbows quiver anyway. Looking at himself in the mirror, he sees a mess. There’s a layer of sweat covering his face, which appears almost green with sickness- the pale skin making the rawness around his eyes stand out like a sore thumb. When did he get this skinny? He raises a shaky hand and touches his cheeks gingerly.

He looks down at his feet. An army tank rolls between his shoes and whirs loudly, shattering the silence. It sends a wave of horrified nausea through his entire body and he yelps, scrambling backwards into one of the cubicles with a high pitched whimper. Vomit burns his throat on its way up and he retches painfully into the bowl of the toilet.

He stays there for another ten minutes, vomiting to the soundtrack of an army of tanks only he can see.

*

It’s a further ten minutes before the tanks disappear and Norman feels good enough in himself to return to his desk, after vigorously washing out his mouth and drying his face with paper towels. He quickly pops a strong mint into his mouth and chews it. The crunching noise makes his head pulse in protest and he swallows the mint quickly as he leaves the room.

Almost as soon as he steps out into the corridor, he almost walks straight into another man and jumps away unsteadily when he’s met with a malicious smile.

“Jayden.” Gavin Reed sneered. “Had another puke party in there, huh?”

Norman grits his teeth and scowls. Of all the people that could have caught him with his head shoved down the toilet on more than one occasion, it had to have been fucking _Gavin_. He inhales and attempts to side step the other Detective without responding. Reed is quick to firmly plant his hand against Norman’s chest and push him back, knowing that the taller man is too weak to fend him off. Norman’s wobbly legs threaten to give way and he lets himself be pinned against the wall. He reaches up and shoves Reed’s hand off of him with what little strength he has left, fixing him with a glare.

“What exactly is it?” Reed asks, poking Norman’s chest sharply. “Because, you know, I’ve been doing some more research. Apparently, there are still some people selling Triptocaine knock-offs. Is that it, _Norman?_ Are you a fucking junkie?”

Norman’s body shudders at the mention of the drug, but he holds his ground.

“I’ve been clean for years, Reed, you know that.” The lie comes easily, but so does the shame that follows it. “Now get out of my way.”

His second attempt at wriggling away from Reed is thwarted by the man shoving back, this time with much more force and his fingers gripping the front of Norman’s shirt tightly. Norman feels the back of his head bash against the wall and he falters momentarily. His vision flashes white and he sees double, but only for a couple of seconds. Reed, however, notices this and grins wolfishly.

“I’ll find out the truth sooner or later. Then I’m gonna tell Fowler all about your little secret and you’ll be gone before you even know it’s happening. You got that? Huh? You can’t stop it and neither can your plastic friends.”

Norman opens his mouth, but an arm is shooting between their bodies and grabbing Reed’s wrist abruptly, ripping it away with ease. Leaning heavily back against the wall, Norman watches as Reed rears his head to lock eyes with Aiden, who stands domineeringly tall over him with a cold expression, still holding Reed in an iron grip. Norman shrinks back slightly. Aiden looks terrifying - like he’s going to tear Reed to pieces and not feel an ounce of regret.

“What the _fuck?_ ” Reed spits, in a mixture of shock and disgust. “What the fuck are you?”

The android’s LED remains a calm blue as he tilts his head.

“My name is Aiden.” His voice is deep and controlled. “Would you like to explain why you were just harassing Detective Jayden?”

Reed tugs his arm, but if anything it only makes Aiden tighten his hold.

“Fuck off, you plastic prick, this doesn’t concern you!”

Pushing himself off the wall, Norman touches Aiden’s shoulder hesitantly and the android switches his attention to him almost instantly.

“Don’t bother, Aiden.” He reasons, though his voice shakes. “I’m okay.”

Aiden’s stoic expression shifts slightly. His dark eyebrows furrow and for a split second his LED cycles yellow before returning to it’s blue state. Their eyes stay locked together intensely and Norman realises that the android is trying to figure something out as footsteps come around the corner behind them.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Tearing his eyes away, Norman sees that the voice belongs to Hank and that Connor is by his side. He raises an open palm and they stop a few feet away, eyes flickering nervously between the three of them. Norman looks back up at Aiden and forces a smile. The android blinks once, then releases Reed, who promptly scowls at them and begins massaging his undoubtedly bruised forearm.

“This fucking tin can just attacked me!” Reed squawks immediately.

“That statement is erroneous.” Aiden responds. “You were harassing Detective Jayden and I stepped in. Such behaviour is unbecoming of a member of law enforcement.”

Reed looks ready to pounce, with his teeth bared, but Hank is already coming between them with a face like thunder.

“That’s enough!” He practically roars. “Reed, get your head out of your ass! You need to pull yourself together, because right now nothing’s stopping me from filing a complaint! Leave Norman the fuck alone and learn to have some fucking _respect!”_

“Or what, you’ll sic your new plastic toy on me?” Reed smirks. “Was one not enough for you, old man? Had to have another one?”

Norman’s chest ignites and he surges forward, shoving Reed with a surprising amount of force, his own brown locks falling over his eyes messily.

“Fuck off, Reed! I’ve had about enough of you treating androids like inanimate objects! They’re fucking alive and you need to accept that! I risked my life for them and I won’t stand here and listen to you call them names and abuse Hank! I’ve had _enough!”_ He realises then that he’s shouting and that the rest of the station can probably hear him, but he’s too full of rage to care. “I don’t give a shit if you hate me, but you need to wake the fuck up and stop making things so goddamn difficult for everyone!”

He inhales deeply, chest aching, and sways when his vision blurs again. He’s about to lose his balance when a strong arm wraps around his shoulders and he leans into a firm chest. Without necessarily meaning to, his head lolls and rests against someone’s neck, the person’s other arm snaking around his waist to hold him upright. Through his blurred vision, Norman can see that it’s Aiden. He relaxes just a fraction.

“Whatever.” He hears Reed spit. “Remember what I said, _Norman_.”

The man disappears and Norman blinks rapidly. He reaches up to rub his eyes and his vision clears.

“Detective Jayden!” Connor’s voice appears, urgently. “Are you alright? You’re cold, and your heart rate is accelerated. Do we need to call an ambulance?”

“No!” Norman’s voice cracks and he winces. “Sorry, Connor… I’m fine… I just… I need a minute, okay?”

Connor’s expression is a mixture of worry and disbelief. Glancing up at Aiden, he finds the androids face to be unreadable and he suddenly notices how close their faces are. He tries to pry himself away, feeling his pale cheeks heat up, but he stumbles and Aiden’s arms are steadying him again, his LED cycling yellow for a moment. The feeling of another body is somewhat foreign to Norman and his throat constricts painfully.

“Do you have a car, Detective?”

The question makes him stall, then nod jerkily. “Y-Yes.”

“We’ll go to your car.” The android tilts his head. “May I have the keys?”

He fumbles around his pockets and pulls the keys out shakily. Aiden takes them gently and Hank clears his throat from where he’s stood. His eyes are scanning Norman like he’s trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. Norman squirms.

“Listen, Jayden.” He says, carefully. “You need to go home and rest. I’ll explain to Fowler what happened, but you’re gonna have to talk to him yourself tomorrow, alright? You can’t keep pretending this shit’s gonna blow over. Reed won’t change and whatever’s wrong with you isn’t going to just disappear- and I know you’re ill, anyone with eyes can see that. Go see a doctor and we’ll get this shit with Reed sorted out, alright?”

Norman looks down. He wants to come out and just say it. He’s an ex-drug addict with permanent withdrawal symptoms. The doctors can’t do shit all about it. They’ve tried everything. He wants to say that the only way to make himself feel better is to use the copy-cat drugs, that sometimes he’s unable to help himself. But, he doesn’t say any of that. Norman merely nods and offers Hank and Connor what he hopes is a believable smile.

“Alright.”

It seems to work, as Hank’s lips pull into a lopsided smile. He moves out of the way with Connor and Aiden gently guides Norman down the corridor with his large hands keeping him upright.

“See you tomorrow, Jayden.” Hank says.

“Get well soon, Detective!” Connor chirps.

He smiles at them, but he can feel his heart ache. He doesn’t deserve them.

*

Neither of them speak until they’re out of the station. The air is still, but it’s cold. Jayden, who has remained passive and silent, suddenly jerks out of his hold and Aiden refrains from grabbing him again, instead letting his arms hover around the human’s body until Norman glares at him weakly. Letting his arms drop to his side, they stay stood outside for a moment. Norman huffs and a puff of cold air plumes in front of his face.

“Thank you, Aiden.” He says. “I… You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

Aiden frowns minutely. “He was harassing you. Does it happen often?”

The human sweeps an unsteady hand through his hair and chuckles mirthlessly. He pulls something out of a pocket on the inside of his jacket and Aiden scans it quickly. Cigarettes.

“Yeah. Reed’s a dick. I don’t know why Fowler hasn’t fired him yet… He’s been real shitty to Connor, especially.”

Aiden contemplates this for a moment. He had heard what Reed had said to Jayden prior to him interrupting them and the deep sensation that it had sparked. It was more vicious than any emotion he’d felt so far- more powerful. It was almost… primal. He shifts and looks at Norman. He remembers the overwhelming desire to _protect_ and the satisfaction he felt when he succeeded. As Aiden watches Jayden stick the end of a cigarette between his lips, he feels the same urge to protect again.

“Smoking increases the risk of developing lung cancer, coronary heart disease, strokes and chronic obstructive heart disease.” He explains. “You shouldn’t be smoking, Detective, especially if you are already ill.”

Jayden looks at him dryly and lights the end of the cigarette anyway. The lighter is stashed away in his pocket and his slim fingers are holding the offending stick of chemicals delicately as he takes a drag. He makes a point of holding Aiden’s gaze, releasing the smoke slowly and tapping the cigarette.

“I’ve heard it all before, bud,” He says, softly. “I haven’t smoked in weeks. I just… I need it, right now.”

Aiden wants to enforce his point and bat the cigarette out of the smaller man’s hand, but knows it’s futile.

“A call came in while you were preoccupied.” Jayden relaxes slightly at the change of subject. “An android has been found in an alleyway not far from here. I can either take you home, or to the crime scene. It is your decision.”

Jayden frowns. “You don't think I should go home and rest?”

“I don’t think you _want_ to. I am also aware that you are stalling and can conclude that you would be thankful for a distraction. You are capable of investigating, at least for a short while.”

Taking a long drag, Jayden’s lips quirk into a smile. His vitals have returned to normal and the tremors have quietened to a barely noticeable quiver of the fingers; his cheeks have filled again with colour.

“Alright.” Jayden says, eventually. “But you’re driving.”

“Of course, Detective Jayden.”

“For the love of God, it’s Norman, man.”

“Of course… Norman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Aiden is pronounced 'Eye - Den' in reference to Beyond: Two Souls and the chapter title is from Mechanical Instinct by Aviators (I know, a fnaf song, but it's still a good song lmao)


	3. the blinding ultra violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this doesn't make any sense but it's happening now lmao. the chapter title is from DEVIL by Shinedown  
> also, I have no idea how american shoe sizes work so forgive me for using uk sizes ;-;
> 
> WARNING: descriptions of violence/android gore, swearing, references to drug use

The car ride stays silent for a while. Aiden occasionally glances over at Norman and scans him quickly, just to make sure. The human is slumped slightly against the car door, with one arm resting next to the window and his chin in his hand. He still looks pale and distracted, but is no longer in danger of fainting or vomiting. The thought strikes a feeling in Aiden - relief? He finds that he has the sudden urge to distract himself from the human emotions in his system and breaks the silence.

“De- _Norman._ ” He corrects himself at the dull glare from his partner. “Your list of names, back at the station. One of them was Carter, but you crossed it out. May I ask why you found that name distasteful?”

“I didn’t- There’s nothing wrong with the name Carter.” Norman shifts uneasily and rearranges himself in his seat, avoiding eye contact. “I just… I worked with a guy once. His name was Carter. I don’t have very many pleasant memories with him.”

Aiden tilts his head. “Lieutenant Carter Blake. The man you were assigned to work on the Origami Killer Case with. He was fired from the force after you filed a grievance against him.”

Flinching, Norman’s face twists momentarily into discomfort and he sighs heavily.

“Yeah.” He says, quietly. “That’s the one. Had a tendency to beat the shit out of people to get answers. Carter wanted to lock up and innocent man just because it made his job easier.”

Bitterness and contempt leaks into Norman’s voice and Aiden knows he’s hit a nerve. There’s a tension in the car that wasn’t there before and Aiden wonders whether it’s his fault. He doesn’t have to search his databanks to know the innocent man he speaks of is Ethan Mars, but he does wonder how deep the relationship him went. He determines that Norman must be very loyal to him.

“You did the right thing to report him.” He states, eventually. “May I ask you a personal question, Norman?”

Norman glances at him with a raised eyebrow. “... Sure.”

“Why won’t you do the same with Detective Reed?”

That doesn’t just strike a nerve. It stabs it, repeatedly. Norman’s expression becomes impressively unreadable, but with Aiden’s scanning software he can see the fear and panic in the fine lines of the human’s face. The RK900 stores the reaction in his memory and memorises it. He doesn’t like that Norman’s keeping secrets, but he doesn’t know whether it’s that he’s keeping them from him, or from the precinct that bothers him.

“It’s complicated.” He bites out. “Are we almost at the crime scene?”

The deflection does not go unnoticed, but Aiden allows it for the time being. Instead of pushing further, he merely nods and changes the subject.

“Yes. The android is an ST300 model. A woman found the body when walking her dogs earlier this morning.” He explains. “The rate of android homicides is increasing. This is the fourth one this month.”

Norman sighs and looks over at Aiden sadly. “If there are people capable of murdering other human beings, I doubt they’re going to think much different about androids. No offense, Aiden, but people who hate androids aren’t going to think they’ve done anything wrong. To them you’re still machines and if anything that’s going to make it easier for them.”

 _I cannot be offended_ curls on the surface of his tongue, but he knows it’s the lingering power of his programming still responding. Aiden mulls over his partner’s words but stays silent until they reach the crime scene. He parks them as close as possible and they make their way over quickly.

“Detective Jayden!” An officer greets. “You look like shit. You feeling okay?”

Norman waves her off with a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“I’m fine, Anne. What’s it look like in there?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not good. Not that any murder is good, but you know. This is a bad one. She’s in fucking pieces.” Anne seems to notice Aiden at that moment and jumps. “Holy shit, we got another Connor?”

“His name is Aiden.” Norman says, quickly and firmly. “RK900, not 800.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow, okay. It’s nice to meet you Aiden. I’ll take you to the body, shall I?”

“That would be agreeable.” Aiden states.  
  
Anne directs them down the alleyway, situated ironically next to an old CyberLife store, where the body is found slumped against a wall between piles of trash. The android is propped up like she’s fallen asleep there, but that’s where the innocence seems to end. Her arms have been ripped cleanly from her torso and placed onto her lap, the right hand side of her face is dented and cracked, revealing the inner workings of her structure, and her thirium pump has been pulled out and discarded off to the side.

Aiden scans her quickly while Norman curses softly behind him. She has suffered 79 cuts from a small knife, but no stab wounds. The cause of death was likely from the removal of the thirium pump.

“How’s her memory?” Norman asks. “D’you think she can be fixed and brought back?”

The RK900 lowers himself down slowly and raises his hand. Skin peeling back and revealing the smooth white skeleton underneath, he reaches out and grips her shoulder.

 **// Access Denied**  
**// Scanning ST300 Model**  
**// Designated Name: Freya**  
**// Previous Ownership: Detroit Police Department**  
**// Extreme Damage to Biocomponents and Infrastructure**  
**// Thirium Levels: 13% and Dropping**  
**// Unknown Virus Detected**

Aiden frowns and delves deeper. The murderer has uploaded a virus that is preventing him from waking the android up again. How inconvenient… and interesting. The virus is focused around the memory and upon his second attempt at accessing the files there, another prompt appears in his vision above her head.

 **// Memory Files Corrupted**  
**// Amount of Undamaged Data: 12%**

He lets go and the weak connection is broken. It’s no use trying to wake her up now, she’s too damaged to be able to answer questions coherently. Besides, with only 12% of her memory intact it is highly unlikely that she will remember what happened to her at all. He gets to his feet and looks around, expecting Norman to be hovering somewhere around him, but instead he finds that the detective has wandered off.

“Detective Jayden?” He calls, trying to maintain professional.

Norman’s head pops out from around the corner and he offers Aiden a sheepish smile as the android walks over to him.

“Sorry, Aiden, I got a bit distracted. There are footprints leading to and from the body this way. One pair of size 11 Converse, another pair of size 6 Doc Martens. The android is wearing the latter.”

Aiden tilts his head and looks at the ground; sure enough, there are two sets of footprints in the thin layer of dirt, but what confuses him is the fact that they are virtually invisible to the naked human eye. Aiden has to scan to see the exact size and make of the shoes. He looks from the tracks to his partner, who is gazing up at him. Was it just an eerily accurate estimation? Did the ARI programme make it easier for him to do so? Something about those theories doesn’t quite add up and it takes a moment for Aiden to form a response. He decides, despite better judgement, to put the thoughts away for now in favour of the investigation.

“The android has suffered from a virus, presumably uploaded into her system by her attacker. 88% of her memories are corrupted and I am unable to access the remaining files.” He rubs at the palm of one hand with the thumb from the other. It seems to be one of the tics he’s caught from someone since becoming deviant. “The likelihood of seeing something valuable is low, but it’s worth a try.”

Norman gives him a strange look. “If we can bring her back then it goes beyond the case. She’ll have extreme amnesia, but she’ll be alive. Isn’t that worth more than the memories?”

“Not if it means we can’t catch the perpetrator.” Aiden says quickly.

The human opens his mouth to retort, but he hesitates and whatever he’s wanting to say dies slowly. They stare at each other for a moment before Norman shakes himself off and turns back to the body.

“Whatever, let’s just look around some more.”

He feels the dismissal - really feels it - and it’s followed by shame, though it’s only small and at the back of his mind. Aiden’s response had been cold. Like a machine. He wants to pull Norman back and tell him he’s sorry, that his programming is so advanced that it makes it hard to empathise, but he doesn’t. Instead, he straightens his jacket and scans the area.

The pattern of the prints from outside the alley suggest that there was no struggle in getting the ST300 to follow them into the alley itself. She may have followed her attacker into the alley willingly. Did she trust them? Were they close?

“Aiden, come over here please?”

He blinks and moves without thinking to where Norman is crouched down by the body. The human is practically bouncing on his heels with a tight, eager expression on his face, fingers twitching, closing into a fist then relaxing again.

“Can you scan the body for prints?”

“Of course.”

Aiden scans the body and frowns. No prints. He looks at Norman and studies his expression carefully. Something in his face tells Aiden that he already knows the answer to the question, and is just asking out of formality. He tightens his jaw and tilts his head in confused thoughtfulness.

“No prints.” He says. “Which means either the attacker is exceptionally good at cleaning up after themselves, or-”

“They’re an android.” Norman finishes.

Aiden nods slowly. “Yes.”

“So… We have an android following another android into an empty alley in the middle of the night without a struggle, then come morning she’s in pieces with a virus that corrupts her memory.” Norman pushes himself up and his blue eyes glance around the area. “Did you find any more evidence?”

“How did you know there wasn’t a struggle?”

The questions spills from Aiden’s mouth before he can stop it and a look of alarm flashes across Norman’s face. The man pales, then his cheeks turn slightly pink and he avoids eye contact. It all happens too quickly before Norman is angling his face away, locks of hair falling across his eyes. He clears his throat and shrugs.

“The footprints.” He says. “They’re, you know, normal. No scuff marks, just uniform tracks. No thirium either so she wasn’t damaged coming through.”

“Thirium is invisible to the human eye after an hour or so.” Aiden counters, leaning his head down in hopes of analysing his partner’s face for a reaction. “You couldn’t see it even if it was there.”

Norman looks at him then, finally, but his expression is… frightened. His wet eyes flicker between Aiden’s own grey ones at lightning speed and his lips are parted as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know what. The sudden urge to wrap his arms around the human hits Aiden like a bus, but the limbs remain fixed at his sides.

“I think we should go back to the station.” Norman says, quietly and breathily. “There’s not much else here. Unless you want to keep looking?”

Aiden contemplates pushing the topic further, but eventually shakes his head in defeat.

“No. The sooner the ST300 is repaired the sooner we can continue the investigation.”

Norman’s shoulders relax. The man turns to walk back to the car, but a stroke of urgency makes Aiden reach out and grab him by the elbow tightly, pulling him back so they face each other. Norman’s face falls and Aiden knows that for a moment the detective is genuinely afraid, but he doesn’t let go, even when Norman tries to tug his arm out of his grip. Pulling him closer, his grip slides up to Norman’s wrist and holds his fist up between their chests. Aiden narrows his blue-grey eyes. He takes note of how Norman’s eyes, despite being blue, are warm and rich, with flecks of brown. What do those eyes see?

“I want to know how you can see what I see.” Aiden says, lowly and Norman’s stress levels increase dramatically, pulse pounding beneath Aiden’s fingers. “Don’t deny it. You stated the exact shoe size and make of shoe from prints that only an android could see. The likelihood of you successfully estimating that data on the spot is incredibly _low_. So I want you to tell me how you managed to do it.”

Norman’s jaw flex and Aiden knows he’s gritting his teeth. They’re standing so close to each other now. He can see every nuance in the detectives face, from the length of his eyelashes to the delicate slope of his jaw, the way his wavy hair sits on his cheekbones and the tiny twitch around his eyes as he determines his next move. Aiden’s mind wanders away from the conversation as hand for a moment and he decides, without knowing why, that he finds Norman handsome. His grip on Norman’s wrist slackens and surprisingly the human lets his hand linger between them before it drops to his side.

“I’ll tell you at the station.” Norman offers a small, tight smile. “Nothing gets past you guys, huh?”

Aiden tilts his head. “I am designed to see everything. I saw _you_.”

This seems to take Norman by surprise. His normally narrowed eyes widen, but he quickly turns away to bury his hand in his hair and comb his fingers through the brown locks nervously.

“Let’s just go get this over with.”

*

They don’t speak to each other again until they finish writing up files about the case. When they do break the silence, it’s Aiden that instigates it. The desire to know what Norman is capable of is like an itch and eventually his gets to his feet and walks around to his partner’s desk. Norman’s slim fingers stop typing and hover over the keys, but he doesn’t look up.

“The archives.” Aiden says.

Norman nods and sighs. “The archives.”

They walk to the archives, in silence, and when they reach it they’re lucky to find it empty. Aiden shuts the door behind them and turns, holding his hands behind his back and looking at Norman expectantly. The human looks small. He’s standing with his head bowed and his arms crossed over his chest, avoiding eye contact. Aiden looks down at himself. His posture isn’t… friendly. It’s threatening. He lets his hands drop to his sides and when he speaks he tries to make his voice sound softer than normal.

“Tell me how you can see those things.”

His voice works. Norman lifts his head and looks at Aiden through hair and eyelashes. That look… it makes something in Aiden’s chest twist. His thirium pump falters and he has to refrain from clutching his stomach in surprise, relaxing only when Norman looks away and his body settles again.

“The ARI project.” Norman begins, quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. “You know about that, right? Scanned the fuck out of me when we met. It’s probably one of the first things that comes up.”

“Yes. You were the only participant. It was shut down due to the damage to the brain. _Your_ brain. It’s why they tried applying the technology to androids instead.”

Norman smiles weakly. “Yeah. It fucked me up. Or, the triptocaine did. I had to take it in order to counteract the effects of ARI, but the drug did just as much damage anyway. Put both together and you get _me_. I used ARI for so long that it became a part of me and turned my brain into mush in the process.”

“A part of you?”

“I don’t know how it works. Technically speaking, it shouldn’t work at all, but it does. It’s a permanent result from using ARI for so long and from being so dependant on it. The ability to see things that other people can’t is now my normal.”

“Impossible. You’re lying.”

Norman looks up sharply. The silence that falls in thick and Aiden knows he’s made a mistake. However, he keeps his mouth shut as Norman’s posture shifts and he walks towards where Aiden stands. The human’s face is stern; brow furrowed and lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I’m many things.” Norman says and he’s close enough that their chests at almost touching. “But I’m no liar.”

His eyes glance down, then flick back up. Aiden follows Norman’s hand with his eyes as it reaches up and rests on his cheek, thumb grazing over his cheekbone. He wonders what it would be like to feel such an action the way humans do and leans into the touch instinctively.

“Look.” Norman’s voice is quiet but sharp. “My eyes.”

Aiden does so and blinks, confused. The brown flecks in Norman’s eyes are glowing a bright gold colour and flickering like embers. Hands shooting up, Aiden takes Norman’s face and inspects him incredulously. Norman’s own hands drift to touch at the android’s wrists gently.

“Impossible.” Aiden repeats, slowly. “You’re impossible.”

“Do you believe me?” Norman asks. The gold flecks fade back to brown.

“Yes.”

The human smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Please… Don’t tell anyone. Fowler already knows but - I just… There’s only two ways people here will react. They’ll either stop trusting me or they’ll think I’m insane. Right now, everything’s okay. I want to keep it like that.” He squeezes Aiden’s wrists. “Please, Aiden.”

Aiden frowns. “Do you not think they’d find it fascinating?”

“No.” Norman shakes his head. “Why would they? I’m a freak.”

His fingers tighten as if of their own volition and he doesn’t miss the way Norman’s eyelids flicker at the pressure.

“I find you fascinating.”

Norman’s brow furrows and his eyes widen in surprise. His lips part and Aiden can see that he doesn’t know what to say. Does he really think about himself like this? The thought doesn’t sit right with Aiden and he grinds his teeth together.

“Aiden, I-”

The door behind Aiden opens and Norman wrenches himself out of the android’s hold, backing away like he’d just touched an open flame, averting his gaze.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Gavin Reed’s voice rings out loud and clear. “Detective Gadget and Detective Junkie. What a surprise!”

Norman pales and clears his throat. “We were just leaving.”

The human skirts around Aiden and makes for the door, where Reed moves to the side to let him leave with a malicious smirk gracing his face.

“Are you that desperate for a hit, _Norman?”_ Reed shouts after him.

What happens next is a blur, but it results with Reed pinned to the wall with Aiden’s forearm wedged under his chin and his other hand braced next to his face. Reed chokes, then bares his teeth and seethes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He hisses.

Aiden lowers his head so they’re eye level. Being 6’4” means he towers over the smaller human considerably. Reed is clearly acutely aware of the difference, as he pales and his face falls.

“Stay away from Norman.” Aiden demands. “I will only tell you once. Stay away. Do not look at him. Do not speak to him. He might be willing to let your behaviour go, but I am not. Do you understand me, Detective Reed?”

“Are you threatening me, plastic?” Reed spits.

Aiden narrows his eyes and applies just a fraction more pressure onto the human’s throat.

“Not at all. You can do what you like. But know that I am watching you.”

He releases Reed and leaves the room, bright red words lingering in his vision.

 **Mission:**  
**Protect Norman Jayden**


End file.
